Chapter 13 - The Decision of the Sovereign
The courtyard fell into a tense, suffocating silence. Villagers who had gathered around muttered anxiously among themselves. They had just begun to taste freedom, hospital supplies were finally arriving, and children were returning to heated schools. The threat of economic sabotage hung heavy in the air.
Martha Bell touched Rowan’s arm gently. "She is trying to corner you, Rowan. She knows you won't let the valley suffer."
Rowan looked out over the faces of the people who had sheltered him, fed him, and ultimately accepted him as their own. He could not let their future be weaponized by corporate tyrants sitting thousands of miles away in glass towers.
He turned back to Julian Cross. "I'll go."
"Rowan, no!" Martha protested. "It's a trap."
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"If I stay here, they bleed the valley dry from a distance," Rowan said, his voice resolute. "If I go to New York, I fight them where they think they are invincible." He stroked the crown feathers of the great eagle, whispering softly to the bird, which bobbed its head in sharp understanding. "Look after them while I'm gone."
The eagle let out a resonant cry that echoed off the jagged peaks of Crown Mountain, signaling its absolute bond to its master. Rowan packed a single canvas bag, turned his back on the snowy ridges, and boarded the corporate helicopter, leaving the valley behind as it lifted into the gray autumn clouds.
